Sermon: Matthew 2: 1-12 The Wise Men's Gospel Gifts

This morning we’re focusing on the arrival of the three wise men. But have you ever stopped to consider what would have happened if it had been three wise women who had come to see the baby Jesus?

They would have asked for directions and not got lost.

They would have arrived on time, not up to two years afterwards.

They would have made a casserole, and cleaned the stable.

They would have brought practical gifts, not the strange items the men brought.

There’s a lot of mystery surrounding these visitors from the east. Who were they? How many of them were there? But perhaps the most mysterious thing about them is the gifts they bring to the baby. I mean, if you hear of a friend or family member who has given birth, you’re not going to rush out to the shops to buy the baby some gold, frankincense and myrrh, are you?

There are a thousand and one things that would be more practical and useful for a baby - baby clothes, nappies, towels, bibs, toys, the list could go on and on. So why do these wise men bring these gifts? In verse 11, their treasures and opened, and they present him with gold, incense and myrrh - or, as was heard at a Nativity one time, gold, Frankenstein and a mirror.

They are strange gifts, and yet, they turned out to be useful, given that the next day the family of Jesus would be fleeing for their lives to Egypt - these precious gifts could be sold to pay for their food and lodging. But while they are still strange gifts, yet they tell the story of this baby. The gifts are a telling of the gospel. So let’s consider each of them in turn, to see what they tell us about this special baby.

The first one is obvious enough. Gold, for a king. It’s the question on the lips of the wise men when they first appear in verse 2: ‘Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews?’

They had come searching for the newborn King, which is why they landed at the king’s palace in Jerusalem. As we saw last week, though, Herod wasn’t too happy to hear their question. It means there is a rival ruler around. And notice that they don’t ask ‘where is the one who has been born and one day will be king of the Jews?’ When Prince William was born, he was automatically second in line to the throne, one day, by God’s will, he will be king. But he wasn’t already king when he was born.

But here the wise men ask where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? The baby is already King. The gold is a recognition of the baby’s place as king of kings and lord of lords. The wise men come to worship, but did you notice that the people in Jerusalem weren’t bothered about the good news.

They were disturbed about it, but they weren’t overjoyed about it. The chief priests and teachers of the law can answer the Bible quiz question: ‘where will the Messiah be born?’ But they don’t bother to go with the wise men to see their long-promised king. Will we be found with the wise wanderers who worship? Or the precocious priests who prevaricate by staying away?

So first out of the treasure chest is gold, fit for a king. The second gift might be less obvious, but it also makes sense. We’ll sing in a few moments of ‘we three kings’ but they were wise men, as verse 1 says, ‘Magi from the east’. That word, magi, suggests a link to magicians, and magic arts. In the original form, they would have been the king’s wise men, advisors and astrologers who observed the skies. Tradition (not found in the Bible) names these three wise men as Casper, Melchior and Balthasar. Who knows if they’re right. But we know for certain the name of another of the magi from an older generation - Daniel.

Daniel (of whom we have the biblical book) was one of the wise men of Babylon (and later of the Medes and Persians). In Daniel 9 we read of how Daniel is reading the Scriptures, the prophecy of Jeremiah, and realises that the time of exile of 70 years is coming to an end, and that prompts him to pray.

It seems that the wise men of the Persian kingdom held on to Daniel’s scriptures. Our Old Testament reading (Isaiah 60) pointed forward to the coming of a new king, one in whom the glory of the Lord is present, to whom nations and kings will come. And in that very passage we even find a suggested gift list for those who come to worship: ‘And all from Sheba will come, bearing gold and incense and proclaiming the praise of the LORD.’ (Is 60:6).

Gold and (frank)incense, declaring the praise of the LORD (that is, of God). Frankincense is the sign of divinity - the sign that this is no ordinary baby, that this is God who has come to earth. You see, in the Old Testament, frankincense was used in the temple offerings as an odour pleasing to the LORD (e.g. Leviticus 2:1).

but it was even more exclusive than that. In Exodus 30, the LORD is instructing Moses on how to set up the tabernacle and begin the sacrifices and priestly ministry of Levi and his sons. Frankincense is used to make the incense of the tabernacle (and later temple). This perfume couldn’t be bought on the high street or used for anybody else. It was only to be used by the priests, in the place of worship, for God alone.

The baby is a king, but he is also God with us - as shown by the frankincense. This is your God. Will you worship him?

But what about the third gift? The myrrh is perhaps the strangest of the three. Sometimes I have to go into a Yankee Candle shop. The blend of smells and fragrances can be overpowering. But if you take a deep breath, and hold it as long as you can, then you can just about survive until you get out of it! But in those kinds of shops you get all sorts of smells. Christmas candles with cinnamon, or cranberry and orange; regular candles that smell of fluffy towels, or lavender, or baby powder. Any number to choose from. But you definitely wouldn’t have chosen to buy a myrrh candle. Myrrh was the smell of death.

Imagine bringing a little baby something that smells of death? It’s almost unthinkable - as you celebrate a new life to have a reminder of death in your nostrils. You see, myrrh was used in the ceremonies of death in Jesus’ day. It was part of the spices used as the body was wrapped in the shroud, ready to be laid in the tomb. And in John 19 we’re told that Nicodemus brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about 75 pounds weight of the stuff for the burial of Jesus.

So even as Jesus is born, as the baby is growing, and these strange visitors appear, this gift is pointing to the reason he was born. The King who is God with us, was born to die. Already his path to the cross is marked out. His death is already present as he begins his life.

The King, God with us, dies - dies for us. This is the gospel, the good news of Jesus. He who had no sin; he who deserved to be worshipped and praised; he stepped down into this world to die for our sin.

We don’t know how much of this the wise men really understood, but they went on a costly journey, to bring costly gifts, to bow down and worship the baby king. They were the first Gentiles to come and worship, but they are by no means the last, as men and women from every tribe and tongue hear the good news and respond in the same way - to bow the knee and worship King Jesus.

The wise men’s gifts tell us the gospel story. Jesus is the king - will you surrender to him? Jesus is God - will you worship him? Jesus is the one who died and rose again for your sins - will you receive his forgiveness?

This morning, on the first Sunday of a new year, you are invited to the table. Come in obedience to your king who calls you! Come and worship your God! Come in thankfulness that Jesus died to take away your sins - all of them - to give you a new start.

As the old car bumper sticker says: ‘Wise men worshipped Jesus. They still do.’ Will you be wise today?

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on the Feast of the Epiphany, Sunday 6th January 2019.

Sermon: Acts 17: 1-15 Riots and Revivals

A former Archbishop of Canterbury once said this: ‘Everywhere the Apostle Paul went, there was a riot or a revival. Everywhere I go, they serve tea,‘ It’s entirely coincidental that we’ll be serving tea after the service today, but will there be a riot or a revival? We’ll wait to see!

Over the autumn term, we’re going to be looking at Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians - written to the church in Thessalonica. But rather than diving straight into the letter, I thought it would be helpful to get the back story first. Where did the church of the Thessalonians come from? How did it get going? Who was in it, and around it? All that’s what we find in our reading from Acts 17, on page 1113.

And as you turn there, you discover that the Archbishop’s summary is fairly accurate. Except, it wasn’t one or the other, riot or revival - it’s both at the same time. Riot and revival. Or even, riot because of revival.

We find the revival first of all, in verses 1-4. Paul and Silas, fresh from a prison cell in Philippi, are on the move, spreading the good news of Jesus in response to his commission. They arrive in Thessalonica, where there’s a Jewish synagogue - the place of worship and prayer.

And so Paul follows his custom, he goes to the synagogue, in order to proclaim the good news about Jesus. He does that for three Sabbaths, three weeks in a row. Do you see how Luke describes what Paul was doing? Look at the verbs (What are verbs? The doing words - the boys and girls are back at school, so we’re going to go back to school too!) - ‘...he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and proving that the Christ had to suffer and rise from the dead.’ (2-3)

They would have known the Scriptures - what we know as the Old Testament - and so Paul reasons with them, engaging their minds. Christianity isn’t irrational, or unreasonable - you don’t leave your minds at the door or turn off your brain. It’s reasonable, rational, it makes sense. It’s why we’ll be engaging with big questions at Cafe Church - How can I believe that God exists? (next Sunday evening). And so Paul explains and proves that the Old Testament was all about how the Christ, the promised King, the anointed one, had to suffer and rise from the dead. (That’s what the risen Jesus was explaining to the disciples in Luke 24).

So as Paul established the foundations - what the Christ had to do - he also proclaims who the Christ is. ‘This Jesus I am proclaiming to you is the Christ.’ That’s how Luke summarises the three Sabbath’s worth of sermons. Jesus is the Christ, the one who had to suffer and rise from the dead - following God’s plan revealed in the Old Testament.

And we see the result of Paul’s message in verse 4. Revival breaks out, as people become Christians. ‘Some of the Jews were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, as did a large number of God-fearing Greeks and not a few prominent women.’ They were persuaded, they were convinced, and so they commit, they join Paul and Silas. There’s revival.

[And it’s happening here too, as people come to faith...]

Revival, but with it comes a riot. And we see how that happens in verse 5. ‘But the Jews were jealous.’ They obviously didn’t like the fact that Paul had come to preach about Jesus, and some of their members were leaving them, joining Paul and Silas. So we see how they respond to the proclamation of Jesus as the Christ. Again, look at the verbs, the doing words from verse 5 on.

‘They rounded up some bad characters... formed a mob... started a riot... rushed to Jason’s house... dragged Jason and some other brothers before the city officials... shouting...’ Lots of action, as they rent-a-mob, start a riot, and then have the cheek to shout what they shout in verse 6.

‘These men who have caused trouble all over the world have now come here, and Jason has welcomed them in to his house.’ Do you see the irony? Paul and Silas hadn’t formed a mob and started a riot. It was the Jews who are causing trouble! But such is their opposition to Jesus, that they will stop at nothing to stop to word being proclaimed.

That phrase about causing trouble literally means ‘they have turned the world upside down.’ And they’re right. The gospel message is revolutionary. It does turn things upside down - rather than God and everyone serving our needs and wants and desires, we put things in their proper place. God on the throne, and us his servants. But the message isn’t always welcome. It brings trouble and opposition from those who don’t want to know.

Yet even the opponents of the message, these rioters, even they proclaim the message - they share that there is another king, one called Jesus. And when the crowd and the officials hear this, they are thrown into turmoil. Why? Because for them, there was only one king - Caesar. To say there is another king, to say Jesus is Lord (rather than Caesar is Lord) is to be disloyal and even treasonous to the empire and the emperor.

Turmoil, but Jason and the others and bailed. We don’t know the names of the others - but we know that they all had a new identity when they received the message and joined Paul and Silas. Did you spot it in verse 6? Jason and some other brothers. When they received the message, they became part of God’s family, they are now known as brothers.

So as night falls, and they send Paul and Silas away on to Berea, what do you think these new brothers were thinking? Paul had been with them for just three weeks. He has now gone, and probably daren’t show his face again. You probably won’t see Paul again. You might not hear from him again. What do you make of all that has gone on? The joy of finding faith. The fear of facing the mob. The threat of being bailed. Would you forget all about Paul and his message? Shrug it off as a fun few weeks, but something to move on from? Or do you keep going? Meeting together as brothers and sisters. Remembering what you’ve been taught. Trying to learn and grow in your new faith? And how are you going to do that?

That’s the position the new believers find themselves in Thessalonica. Paul has gone. And, as the chapter goes on, the pattern repeats. Paul goes to the synagogue (again!). The revival as the Bereans hear, and study the Scriptures to check that Paul is speaking the truth. The ‘Many’ Jews as well as the prominent Greek women and many Greek men. All rejoicing in their new faith. Revival all over again.

But soon comes the riot. Not, as you might expect from Berea itself. But the same Jews from Thessalonica go a long way to be offended. They follow Paul the 45 miles to agitate the crowds and stir them up. Such is their opposition to the gospel that they will stop at nothing to stop it being proclaimed. So Paul moves on again, to Athens, with Silas and Timothy coming behind him. There’s no way back for Paul. He’s been moved on from Berea, so he definitely can’t go back to Thessalonica. But he can write to the little church. And it’s the letter that he writes to them that we’re going to be looking at this term. How will Paul encourage them? What do they need to be reminded of? And what do they need to be taught? We’ll see as we work our way through it from next week.

So that’s the background to 1 Thessalonians. The gospel comes to town and brings riot and revival. It was true in Thessalonica when Paul and Silas arrived there, and it’s still true today.

It’s why, when you invite someone to come along to church, some people will give it a go while others will refuse to come along. Or, if you mention that you’re a Christian to a colleague, you may not get a favourable reaction - or maybe even a complaint against you.

And the same reactions will happen inside us as well. When you hear God’s word, you are reacting and responding in one way or the other. Either you are being brought to life, being revived, as you rejoice in the gospel of Jesus and become a brother or sister. Or you are fighting it and opposing it, starting a riot within - and maybe even recruiting others to stand against it and cause trouble for the brothers.

Even this morning, you are either lining up with King Jesus, who suffered on the cross and rose from the dead according to the Scriptures, or you are living up against him, trying to ignore him. Revival or riot. Both happening at the same time. Even in the same pew. Whichever it is, though, riot or revival, I’d be glad to talk to you about it - after the service over a cup of tea.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday morning 2nd September 2018.

Sermon: Mark 1: 29-39 Why did Jesus come?

On this Sunday a year ago, we announced in Aghavea that we were moving to Richhill. And a similar announcement was made here. And I know that the news spread rapidly after the two morning services here and there. People in Fermanagh were ringing round to share the news (good or bad?) that we were going. People here were ringing or googling to try to find out who this new boyo was. From a worship service, the news of what had happened spread rapidly.

And that’s what’s happening in our reading this morning. We’re hearing about the aftermath of a worship service; we’re seeing how news of what happened was spreading rapidly. There were no phones, or social media, so it was word of mouth, people going to tell others, but as we’ll see, it creates quite a stir.

You might have noticed that we’ve skipped from verse 20 to verse 29. That’s because David McComb preached on that passage the other week in the evening. But to understand what’s happening now, we need a recap. It’s a bit like in some TV boxsets - ‘Previously in Mark’s Gospel...’ Jesus is in the synagogue, the local Jewish place of worship, prayer and preaching in Capernaum. And two things happened that morning to cause amazement.

First, the people were amazed at Jesus’ teaching, with authority. He spoke like no one else they had ever heard preaching. And second, the people were amazed at his authority over evil spirits, as he cast one out of a man. All this happened in the synagogue in the one day. It’s no wonder that verse 28 tells us that ‘News about him spread quickly over the whole region of Galilee.’

So in our reading we see what happened next. After church, they go to Simon and Andrew’s house, maybe for a cup of tea. And in the house, Simon’s mother-in-law is in bed with a fever. She’s not well. So they tell Jesus about her. They simply let him know that she isn’t well. They’ve seen what he was able to do in the synagogue - maybe he could help her too.

So Jesus goes to her, takes her hand, helps her up, and the fever left her. Jesus is able to heal and restore. He takes away the fever and instantly gives her health and strength. You know the way when you’ve been ill, you’ve spent some time in bed, it can take a few days or weeks to get fully better? Not here with Peter’s mother-in-law. she is healed, and immediately begins to wait on them. She is healed by Jesus and then starts serving Jesus.

Now that’s all been happening inside the house. But outside, it’s been a hive of activity. News has spread about Jesus and his authority to teach and heal. So everyone has come to him. Verse 32: ‘That evening after sunset the people brought to Jesus all the sick and demon-possessed. The whole town gathered at the door.’

Can you imagine that? If everyone from Richhill was standing outside your door? Or perhaps another scene that we’ve witnessed recently, the queues at A&E, with people waiting in ambulances, on trolleys, in corridors, and anywhere else there’s a seat or a space. That’s what it looked like outside Peter’s house. The whole town is there, having brought all the sick and demon-possessed people.

So Jesus does what he is able to do to help. He has the authority to heal, and so he does it. It’s a sign of the kingdom of God, bringing order where there is chaos; putting wrong things right; bringing health and wholeness where there is sickness and disease. Verse 34: ‘Jesus healed many who had various diseases. He also drove out many demons, but he would not let the demons speak because they knew who he was.’

Whatever the problem, physical, mental or spiritual, Jesus was able to bring healing and restoration. But he doesn’t allow the demons to speak - they know who he is. Look back at verse 24 - the demon in the synagogue had named Jesus as ‘the Holy One of God.’ But at this point, Jesus doesn’t want people to know - because they’ll misunderstand, just as Peter does in chapter 8 when he finally realises that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ.

Now, imagine that you were Peter, watching on, taking stock of everything that had happened that day. You’d reckon it was a fairly successful day. No one would need the doctor or A&E that night. The local hospital could shut because they had no patients. It was a good day. And imagine if Jesus just kept doing this kind of thing - no one would ever be unhealthy again. The solution to all the NHS problems in one go. Ok, it had been a late night, by the time Jesus had dealt with everyone, but what a night it had been!

But it seems that the next morning, more people from further away had heard about the miracle man. They too had come looking for healing. They were waiting their turn for Jesus to heal them. They had their numbered ticket from the queueing system. They waited outside the house for Jesus to come out and start doing it all over again.

But, there was no sign of Jesus. Peter was inside, thinking Jesus was already out, busy at his work of healing. But then the door started knocking. Where is Jesus? Can he see me? Can he help my relative? So Peter looks round the house, and Jesus isn’t inside. And Jesus isn’t out on the street either. Where can he be?

Peter and the other disciples go to look for Jesus, and eventually they find him. Do you see what he says to Jesus? ‘Everyone is looking for you!’ What are you doing out here, Jesus? There are more people wanting to see you and be healed by you back in the town. Come on and get started - they’re getting impatient. You’ve a job to do - to heal all those people.

It would have been so easy for Jesus to go along with what the crowd wanted. The temptation may have been there to please all these people - and after all, it would be doing good and helping people. But look where Jesus had been. Verse 35 tells us - ‘Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.’ It may have been a late night, but Jesus was awake early, to check in with his Father, to pray, and seek the Father’s direction as to the next steps; to find the Father’s priorities for the day ahead.

That’s why Jesus says something so surprising in verse 38, in response to Peter saying, ‘Everyone is looking for you.’ Jesus says: ‘Let us go somewhere else - to the nearby villages - so that I can preach there also. That is why I have come.’

There are things he could do right here, right now. There are people he could help back in the town. But Jesus moves on, to go somewhere else. And notice it isn’t even to heal people there. Jesus’ priority is to preach there also. This is the reason Jesus came - to proclaim the good news (as we saw back in verse 14-15).

To heal people in Capernaum wouldn’t be enough. You see, you could be healed today, but fall ill again in a week’s time. This temporary healing might be of some benefit, but only the hearing and receiving of the good news of God will bring eternal benefit and blessing. That’s why Jesus sets off to go and preach in other places. And he was assured of this priority in the time he spent in prayer with his heavenly Father.

Where is your place of prayer? Where do you meet with your Father, to re-align yourself to his priorities for your day? It might be a particular chair where you sit to pray; or maybe on your way to work (just don’t close your eyes if you’re driving!); it can be any time, whenever suits you best, early morning or lunchtime or in the evening, so long as you’re spending time with God.

And how are we following Jesus’ priority of sharing the good news? That’s our aim - to be a gospel-centred church reaching out to our community and our world with the love of Christ. So how are we doing? Are the people of Richhill being reached? Are the people of the world being reached?

Could you get involved with a summer mission project? Could we plan for a church team for 2019?

Why did Jesus come? So that people would hear and respond to the good news. Have you heard the good news for yourself? If not, that's your first and greatest need. Then the next priority is to share it with others. It’s the reason Jesus came - to share the gospel, the good news far and wide.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday morning 11th February 2018.

Sermon: Habakkuk 1:1 - 2:1 Heaven's Complaints Department

We’re getting into the time of year when you might be planning your holiday. Well, beware - these are all genuine complaints received from tourists by a holiday company:

‘The street signs weren’t in English. I don’t understand how anyone can get around.’

‘There was no sign telling you that you shouldn’t get on the hot air balloon ride if you’re afraid of heights.’

‘The beach was too sandy.’

‘I think it should be explained in the brochure that the local store does not sell proper biscuits like custard creams or ginger nuts.’

‘We could not enjoy the tour as our guide was too ugly. You can’t be expected to admire a beautiful view when you’re staring at a face like his.’

Well, I hope you’re not put off by my ugly mug this evening! Sometimes, complaints can be a bit silly - like the ones we’ve heard from holidaymakers. But sometimes complaints are genuine. There is a problem that needs to be listened and sorted out.

As the book of the prophet Habakkuk begins, we find him, in heaven’s Complaints Department. He’s not happy about something, and so he cries out to God. He calls out to God, and lodges his complaint. We find it on page 940, in verses 2-4.

‘How long, O LORD, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, “violence!” but you do not save?’

His complaint is first of all about how long he’s not getting an answer. I wonder if you’ve ever phoned up BT or an insurance company, and you hear the recorded message ‘your call is important to us, please hold the line...’ and then listen to Greensleeves for the hundredth time! And you think - how long until I get through to an advisor?!

Well, Habakkuk hadn’t been listening to Greensleeves. He hadn’t heard, well, anything. He’s calling out to God, and God hasn’t bothered answering. God hasn’t done anything about his concerns, his cries for help.

Have you ever been in the same boat? Something’s going on in your life, you need God to come through, to do something, to help, and... nothing. Silence. Perhaps that’s you at this precise moment. Maybe you’ve got an appointment or a diagnosis. Family difficulties. Money worries. Maybe you’re worried about the way society seems to be going - the news filled with violence, injustice, conflict.

Those were the things Habakkuk was concerned about. As he looks at his nation, God’s covenant people, he sees things going terribly wrong. Verse 3 - destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds. The law is paralysed, justice never prevails. Justice is perverted. It’s frustrating. It’s a big problem. And it’s bad enough that Habakkuk is having to live in such a place, but even worse that God isn’t doing anything about all this wrongdoing.

Start of verse 3: ‘Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrong?’ Habakkuk is saying, God, what’s going on? Why aren’t you doing something? Why aren’t you answering me?

And then, amazingly, God answers him. God reveals to the prophet Habakkuk what’s going on in the world, and what God is going to do. And initially, it sounds very promising. It sounds very exciting. Who wouldn’t want to hear this?

‘Look at the nations and watch - and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told.’ (5)

Brilliant! God is answering Habakkuk’s complaint! He’s going to do something amazing. Something you wouldn’t have imagined. The complaints department will be able to tick this complaint off the list. Resolved. So what is this amazingly wonderful thing that God is going to do?

‘I am raising up the Babylonians, that ruthless and impetuous people, who sweep across the whole earth to seize dwelling-places not their own.’ (6)

Erm, that doesn’t sound just as great a solution. Especially when God goes on to describe them in more detail. When I was growing up, we played top trumps. You had lots of different sets - football players, cars, planes and so on. They were given a rating for lots of different things, and you had to pick one to try to beat your opponent’s rating. So, if you had a Robin Reliant, top speed of 55 mph, it wouldn’t beat a Ferrari, top speed 250mph. The Babylonians, they were top trumps champions at warfare.

Feared and dreaded? Tick. Promoting their own honour? Tick. Swift horses, fiercer than wolves? Tick. Tick. Tick. These are the real deal. Attacking, conquering, they have no equal. Fortified cities make them laugh - they’ll just pile up earth, come over the top, capture the city and move on.

The Babylonians were the top trumps champions at warfare. Another thing they were top trumps at was, verse 11, wickedness. Guilt. Idolatry. ‘Then they sweep past like the wind and go on - guilty men, whose own strength is their god.’ They only worship themselves. They boast in their strength.

And this is God’s great plan? This is the amazing, unheard of answer to Habakkuk’s complaint? It’s no wonder that Habakkuk is back on the phone again. It’s hardly surprising that Habakkuk comes back with a second complaint. God, you’re doing what? Why are you allowing this to happen? Why are you actively making things worse, rather than better? God, what are you playing at?

Habakkuk starts his complaint with a reminder of who God is. Verse 12: ‘O LORD, are you not from everlasting? My God, my Holy One, we will not die. O LORD, you have appointed them to execute judgement; O Rock, you have ordained them to punish. Your eyes are too pure to look on evil; you cannot tolerate wrong.’

Lord, you’re pure, you’re holy, and yet you’re doing this. ‘Why then do you tolerate the treacherous? Why are you silent while the wicked swallow up those more righteous then themselves?’

Do you see Habakkuk’s problem? He’s saying, ok, we’re bad, but they’re worse than we are! Why will you let them get away with it while they triumph over us? Why are you going to put us through all this suffering?

He then pictures people like the fish in the sea. It’s as if the Babylonians have gone fishing. Using hooks (13), then a net, then a drag-net. Now I’m not a fisherman - I think I’d go fishing and only catch a cold - but do you see the increasing catch? A hook only gets one fish at a time; then a net on the end of a pole would get a few more at a time; but a drag-net, pulled along behind a boat catches everything. Babylon are conquering everywhere, sacrificing to their net (their own power), living in luxury as they conquer other nations. As verse 17 asks - is there no stopping him? ‘Is he to keep on emptying his net, destroying nations without mercy?’

So what do you do when you find yourself trying to get through to heaven’s complaints department? What do you do when you can’t understand God’s purposes, and things seem to be getting worse, rather than better?

The first thing to notice from tonight is that Habakkuk continued to cry out to God. When trouble came, he didn’t turn away, he turned to God. He kept ringing the complaints line, as he cried out in prayer. And while it might seem obvious to say it, sometimes it’s not so obvious when we’re in the midst of a difficult situation. If prayer seems more like a last resort, then cry out to God. As the hymn says - what a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer.

The second thing to notice is something that Habakkuk just couldn’t understand, the thing that drives the second complaint. ‘Why are you silent while the wicked swallow up those more righteous than themselves?’ Can you think of somewhere else in the Bible where we find the same thing happening? The place where the more righteous one cried out to God, asking why he had abandoned him? My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

In a shadow, we see the outline of the cross. The wicked swallowed up the more righteous one, THE righteous one. You might remember the film ‘The Passion of the Christ,’ a dramatic portrayal of the crucifixion. It was directed by Mel Gibson, and he appears in one scene. As Jesus is nailed to the cross, it is Mel Gibson’s hand which drives in the nails. He’s recognising that he crucified Jesus. The wicked swallowing up the more righteous - and yet this is God’s way of salvation, forgiveness; his ultimate purpose in the world. As we take bread and wine tonight, we remember his death for us. We celebrate that God did punish sin in Christ Jesus, and we can go free.

And yet, sometimes, even knowing that ultimate answer, and being sustained by the bread and wine, we still struggle with the circumstances of our lives. So, in a sense, we watch and wait with Habakkuk, listening out for God’s answer for the everyday struggles. Watching, waiting, for God to speak. We’ll hear more next week...

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 18th June 2017, in the 'How long, O Lord' sermon series in the book of the prophet Habakkuk.

Sermon: Genesis 3: 15 Scripture Fulfilled - The Serpent Crusher

“If you don’t want to know the scores, then please look away now.” Those are the words the newsreader says on Saturday night, just before they report on the football. It’s so that someone who hasn’t heard how their team has done can watch Match of the Day without knowing the end result in advance. But as we gather at the start of this Holy Week, we already know the end result. Jesus, who was crucified on the first Good Friday, was also raised to life on the first Easter Sunday.

And it’s helpful to know that, and helpful to remember the events of that first Easter Day as we begin our special series this week. Do you remember the two disappointed disciples, walking home from Jerusalem to the village of Emmaus? A stranger catches up with them, asks what they’re talking about, and they can’t believe he hasn’t heard of all that had happened in the city. They had hoped that Jesus was going to redeem Israel. But their hopes were dashed. He had died on a cross. And surely that was the end. There were rumours flying about that his tomb was empty, but they had given up, and gone home.

The stranger then says, ‘How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?’ He then begins with Moses and the Prophets, explaining ‘what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.’ The stranger was Jesus, and he gave them a big Bible study of how the Old Testament talks of him and points to him.

Having recognised him as he broke the bread, they set off back to Jerusalem in the dark, along the seven miles, to share the good news with the disciples. Then Jesus stands among them, risen, alive, and he reminds them of what he told them before his death: ‘Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms.’

That’s our purpose this week - to see how the Old Testament scriptures about Jesus’ death are fulfilled. Now, we’ll not cover all of them - we won’t get near the ‘everything written about me’. But we’ll pick out some of the main passages and see how they point us to Christ’s cross.

Tonight, we start at the beginning - a very good place to start. In our reading tonight we have the protevangelium - the first declaration of the gospel, the first signpost to the cross, from within the Garden of Eden.

Eden was the place of perfect paradise, where Adam and Eve walked with God, and ruled the creation under him. It’s hard for us to imagine just how perfect it was, because we’re so used to the world as we know it now. But any time you despair of shattered dreams, or disappointments, or groan under suffering, sickness or sadness or regret strained relationships, you’re longing for the Eden experience.

Adam and Eve had it all, and yet how quickly they lost it. From Paradise to Paradise Lost in a matter of verses. So how did it happen? Behind it all was the serpent. You’ll see that here in Genesis, we’re just introduced to the serpent without any explanation. But in Revelation 12 and 20, the devil is described as ‘that ancient serpent’. So here in Eden is the devil, Satan.

‘Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made.’ His craftiness comes out in the way he talks to Eve.

‘Did God really say, “You must not eat from any tree in the garden?”’ He’s challenging God’s word, seeking to undermine it, causing doubt. So when Eve says that they can’t eat from (or touch) the tree in the middle of the garden or they will die, the serpent strikes straight back: ‘You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.’

Do you see what he’s doing? Challenging, and now denying God’s word. He’s trying to convince her that God is holding something back, that God is not really good. That you can’t really trust God.

Her desire is stirred: ‘When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate.’

The serpent had persuaded her, and tempted her, and deceived her. As Adam and Eve bit into the fruit, they realised they were naked. Guilt and shame were felt for the first time in the world. They had to cover up, fashioned in fig leaves, and then started the first ever game of hide and seek.

The story goes of a minister out visiting, and he rang a door. He had the sense someone was inside, so he wrote a Bible reference on the back of his card - Revelation 3:20. Behold, I stand at the door and knock... The next Sunday, the lady slipped him a piece of paper with a Bible reference on it - Genesis 3:10. ‘I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.’

Adam and Eve hid themselves from God. It wasn’t that God went missing and Adam and Eve had to go and find him, and that we still are on a search for God. No, it’s us who have gone into hiding. But still God comes looking for us, asking ‘Where are you?’

Perhaps you’re hiding from God tonight. You’re here, but you’re hiding, not really engaged. God comes to meet us where we are; comes to speak tenderly with us.

God asks them why they’re hiding. ‘Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?’ And it’s here that the blame game starts. Adam blamed Eve, Eve blamed the serpent, and the serpent didn’t have a leg to stand on!

But do you see how sin brings shame and blame? It’s not really my fault, God - it’s because of someone else; or because of my circumstances; or even because of you, God, you made me do it because of how you made me and what you gave me. ‘The woman you put here with me...’ It’s always someone else’s fault.

In the very place where there was blessing, and perfection, God’s good creation has been marred, spoiled, ruined. It’s like the painting of Jesus on a church wall in Spain a few years ago - that a lady attempted to improve and totally destroyed it. Or it’s like someone who has worked for ages building a model ship out of matchsticks, only for their toddler to destroy.

God has to judge their sin, their refusal to trust him, their disobedience of his word. But even as he declares judgement in the form of curse, there is mercy and grace. God could have wiped them out immediately. One day they would die, but it wasn’t that day.

The curse includes pain in childbirth for the woman and thorns and thistles in work for the man, but it’s in the curse on the serpent that we find the promise of the cross. ‘I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.’ (15)

God declares to the serpent that there will be enmity, opposition, hostility between the serpent and the woman; between his offspring and hers; but do you see how it changes at the end?

It’s no longer between the serpent and the woman, nor their respective offspring. This time it’s personal - between her offspring and ‘you’. God declares to the serpent that at some point in the future, the woman’s offspring will do battle with him. There will be a decisive victory.

This is why we see the children of Israel so often being oppressed throughout the Old Testament. The serpent is each time trying to prevent the offspring of the woman from being born - whether it’s the baby boys being thrown into the Nile by the Egyptians; or the slaughter planned by Haman in the days of Esther; or Herod’s killing of the baby boys under two in Bethlehem - the serpent is trying to destroy the offspring before this ultimate battle comes.

That ultimate battle comes on the cross. Let’s think of it in the words of verse 15. (And I hope you don’t have ophidiophobia - the fear of snakes). Picture the two things happening at the same moment - as a man stands on a snake’s head, it bites him in the heel. ‘He will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.’

The serpent lands a blow on Jesus. He strikes his heel - he brings about Jesus’ death. But Jesus rises from that death to live again. The serpent’s blow is fatal, his head is crushed. William Williams, the Welsh hymnwriter most famous for ‘Guide me O thou great Redeemer’ puts it this way:

‘Bruised was the dragon by the Son,
though two had wounds, there conquered one,
and Jesus was his name.’

As the writer to the Hebrews puts it, ‘Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil.’ (2:14).

As far back as the Garden of Eden and Genesis 3, God points forward to the cross, and proclaims that the serpent will be defeated by the offspring of the woman, the serpent-crusher. And so, from Genesis onwards, the search is on for this promised one, the one who would defeat the devil, the one who would bring freedom for his people.

Perhaps tonight, you’re under the weight of your sin. You’ve been deceived by the devil, you feel yourself trapped and enslaved by him. Your shame shouts aloud. Your guilt goes before you. Look again to the cross. In Jesus’ death, he has defeated the devil, he has crushed his head.

And listen to the promise that Paul gives to the Christians in Rome, and to us as well: ‘The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you.’ The devil’s days are numbered, and his defeat is sure because of the cross. We can look forward, not to Eden restored, but to the new heavens and the new earth, where nothing unclean or impure can dwell. The scripture has been fulfilled. The serpent crusher has come, and has won.

This sermon was preached in Brookeborough Methodist Church on Monday 10th April 2017 in the Scripture Fulfilled series of Holy Week services.

Sermon: Romans 8: 1-11 No Condemnation

I wonder if you can remember the feelings you had when you sat down in the exam hall at school. Maybe you were nervous, trying to remember everything you had learned on that particular subject. Maybe you felt sick, wanting to do well, or hoping you’d get through. How much better would you have felt, if you knew the end result before you sat down, or as you were furiously scribbling your answers down?

Or what about the moment when you drive up to the MOT test centre. How flustered you feel when they ask you to turn on your lights and you can’t think how to do it! How nervous you feel when they do the braking test, or when they lift your car up and give it a good shake. One time, the tester took ages with my car up on the lift, then he called over a colleague, then he disappeared into the office, and then came back, stood for ages before eventually letting me know the car had passed with flying colours! How much better, to already know the verdict before you drive the car in to the centre.

Or maybe Saturday night for you means sitting down to watch Match of the Day. You know your team’s result, and so even if they go down 2 goals in the first half, you know that they’re going to win 3-2. Knowing the end result changes how we feel about the experience. Knowing the final verdict can give us confidence, no matter what might be going on in the meantime.

Now if that would be true of exams, or MOTs, or Match of the Day; then how much more would it be true of life? How amazing to be able to know God’s verdict of our life here and now - without having to wait until we stand before his judgement seat. As we begin looking at Romans 8, this is what Paul tells us is possible, here and now.

Look at what he says in verse 1. ‘There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.’ No condemnation. A ‘not guilty’ verdict. A declaration of innocence is available for us - for those who are in Christ Jesus. Now this verse is the summary of everything Paul has said from chapters 1-7 (and it might be good for you to read them, to see how it has come about).

You see, people may say lots of things about us; they can have their opinion of the things we do or say. Or maybe you have your own opinion about yourself - the shame or guilt for something you have done; the thing you hope no one ever finds out about; you see yourself as sinful, as guilty, as condemned. But the only opinion that really matters is what God thinks of us. It’s his verdict that counts in the end. And his verdict can be known now - no condemnation for those in Christ.

It’s as if we have been set free. The law of sin and death holds each of us - our sin leads to death. But those in Christ are set free, the prison doors opened, the chains removed, as we are declared innocent. But how does this happen? How can we know the verdict in advance?

Verse 3 shows us what God has done for us. He sent his own Son, the Lord Jesus, ‘in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin’. Jesus came in our skin, sharing our human nature, to die for our sins. He condemned sin in the flesh, and has taken away our sins. It’s as if we had a huge debt, and Jesus has paid our debt. He has dealt with our sin. But Paul says Jesus has done even more for us than just paying our debts. Verse 4: ‘In order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.’

Jesus not only takes away our law-breaking. He also gives us the power to obey the law. He helps us to do the things we never could do before, when we walk according to the Spirit.

When you think of it, there are lots of ways we divide people. Men and women. Old and young. Rich and poor. Manchester United fans and ABUs (Anyone But United). But Paul says there are only two types of people - you’re either one, or the other, there is no middle ground, no sitting on the fence. So which are you - do you walk according to the flesh, or according to the Spirit?

From verse 5, Paul helps us to see which group we’re in. ‘For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit.’ The way to see which group you’re in is to see where you have set your mind. What is it you think about when you don’t think about anything? What is it that sets your goals, dreams and ambitions? Is it your flesh, your sinful nature, your sinful desires? Or is it the Spirit - to want what he wants? In a few moments, Alex and Esther will declare their choice - as they turn from the world, the flesh and the devil, and turn to Christ, submit to Christ.

It’s one or the other. It’s as if you come to a fork in the road. Two roads lead to very different destinations. ‘For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.’ It’s a matter of life and death, heaven and hell. And your thoughts are a diagnosis of your heart, your desires. To pursue sinful pleasure is to be hostile to God, to love the things God hates, and hate the things God loves, to be unable to please God.

Now, by nature, that’s all of us. We naturally are out for ourselves. It won’t take long for Anna to learn the word ‘mine’. And even if we’ve grown up, and know not to say it out loud, we can still think it, and work towards it: ‘Mine!’

But it doesn’t have to be that way. There are two groups of people in the world - people who live by the flesh, but there are also those who live by the Spirit. Paul says that the Christians in Rome, the people who received the letter, are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit. And how do you know? How can we tell if we’re in the Spirit? It’s ‘if in fact the Spirit of God dwells in you.’

If we belong to Christ, if we are in him, and he is in us, then he gives us the Holy Spirit, he gives us the power to change, and the guarantee of the final verdict. Do you see how Paul refers to the Holy Spirit here? He is the Spirit of God. The Spirit of Christ. The Spirit of life. The Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead. Each points us to the work of the Spirit, in bringing the power of God to live in us, and in giving us life.

Living as a Christian can be frustrating. You know what you should be doing, but you don’t always do it. You want to change, but you stumble and fall into sin. You feel the power of sin, the pull of death, as you do that thing you hate once again. But look at what God gives us. He gives us his Holy Spirit - the Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead to dwell in us. He will do the very same in our lives.

He gives us life. Satan may try to condemn you. He might try to bring you down with the weight of guilt. How could God really love you after you did that? But the Holy Spirit whispers into our soul that we already know the verdict of the last day - not guilty. No condemnation. Life and peace, because we stand in Christ’s righteousness, as we live by the Spirit, and follow his leading. It’s as if we can open our exam results before we’ve sat the exam. We already know the final result, as we trust in Christ, and live by the power of his Holy Spirit.

This sermon was preached in Aghavea Parish Church on Sunday 23rd October 2016.

Book Review: Faker

The parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector takes up just seven verses in our Bibles. It's a memorable short story with a sting in the tale - the two men are at prayer, but the end result is surprising. Only one is justified before God, and not the one you would have thought at the start. The parable forms the basis of a new book from the pen of Nicholas T McDonald, published by The Good Book Company: Faker - How to live for real when you're tempted to fake it.

Aimed at young people, I found this to be a great book for more than just the target age group. The writing is engaging, honest and refreshing, as Nicholas opens up about his own failings when trying to fake it. He explores the ways in which we all try to fake it, especially in our social media saturated world, by projecting the best image of ourselves to a watching world. His stories are hilarious (and also instantly recognisable), as the perils of projecting perfection are exposed.

False hopes are shown for what they are, and throughout, there's a clear passion to explain the good news of Jesus Christ in a way that is easily understood and applied to the life of teenagers. The substitutionary atonement is front and centre, and brilliantly explained. There's even a final chapter on prayer which opens up the Lord's Prayer in a fresh way.

I really enjoyed the book, and I reckon that young people definitely will. The chapters are short, accessible and engaging. The gospel is clearly explained. The truth is presented in a way that gently but helpfully confronts. It's well worth buying for your teenagers or youth group - but not just for them. Read it yourself, and appreciate afresh the glory of the gospel.

Faker is available from The Good Book Company, who supplied a review copy of the book.

Sermon: Proverbs 14: 20-31 Good News for the Poor

This morning George Osborne left Number 11 Downing Street, and paused on the doorstep to pose for photos. In his right hand, he held up his red briefcase. Inside was The Budget, which he was about to deliver in the House of Commons. He was setting out the new rates of income tax, duty on drink and cigarettes, and other financial measures. Many people tuned in to watch, and others will have checked the evening news, just to see if they’ll be better or worse off as a result. Everyone was hoping for a bit of good news, something that would boost their bank balance or put a few pounds in their purse.

Whether the Chancellor of the Exchequer has achieved that may well depend on whether you’re Labour or Conservative, and we’re not getting in to a party political broadcast tonight. The deeper question is this - could any chancellor bring really good news for the poor? What would such good news look like?

Over the course of Lent, we’ve been reading through Proverbs, both at home and on Wednesdays. We’ve looked at the beginning of wisdom, relationships, work, words, and now we come to the poor. How do we get on if we are poor, or how do we treat those who are poorer than us. If I were to ask you if you are poor or feel poor, the way you answer might depend on the cash in your wallet or under your mattress, and how far it is until the next pay day or pension day. One way of putting it that has stuck with me is having too much month left at the end of your money.

But whether we are poor or not depends on how we measure, and who we compare ourselves with. If you look at someone like Bill Gates or the Queen, then of course you feel poor. You just can’t compete with their wealth. But what about on the global scale? This tweet popped up on my Twitter feed today, a wonderful case of God-incidence, as I was preparing to preach tonight. It said this: ‘The amount of money and assets needed to put you in the top 50% of the world’s wealthiest people is just £2400 ($3650).’ @qikipedia. If you can tot up that amount, then you’re in the richest half of the world’s population.

Perhaps after hearing that, you’re feeling a little bit better off. Nearly everyone is richer than someone else. Almost everyone can find someone who is poorer. The question is, how do we treat them? Do we look down on them because they don’t have as much money? Do we divide people into the deserving and the undeserving poor? Do we reserve the right to only help some and leave others to suffer?

As you read through Proverbs, you realise how hard a time some people have. ‘The poor is disliked even by his neighbour, but the rich has many friends.’ (14:20) - we see this worked out in the life of the Prodigal Son. He had plenty of friends when he had his inheritance money, but they all abandoned him to the pigsty when the money ran out. Or again, ‘Wealth brings many new friends, but a poor man is deserted by his friend.’ (19:4).

Yet even Proverbs tells us that to be poor and have integrity is better than to have wealth and be a sinner. ‘It is better to be of a lowly spirit with the poor than to divide the spoil with the proud.’ (16:19), or again, ‘Better is a poor person who walks in his integrity than one who is crooked in speech and is a fool.’ (19:1). Wealth is no excuse for sinfulness. Money doesn’t mean that you can boss people around or lord it over them.

Just as we saw last week that how we use our tongue exposes what’s in our hearts, the overflow, so we see that how we treat the poor shows our heart condition as well. ‘Whoever oppresses a poor man insults his Maker, but he who is generous to the needy honours him.’ (14:31). To do harm to someone who is poor is actually to do harm to his Maker, the one in whose image he was made. Yet we can so easily slip into a form of favouritism founded on fortunes.

That’s what was happening in the early church. James exposes what was happening in his day. Two new people arrive at church at the same time. One is decked out in designer labels, with plenty of bling, lots of gold jewellery. The other looks like he hasn’t washed in a week. Watch the welcome team: ‘You sit here in a good place’ - you’ll be able to see what’s going on, you’ll see everyone and everyone will see you. The other, he’s told, ‘You stand over there, or sit down at my feet.’

It’s so easy to do, but James says it shouldn’t be so. We might look at the outward appearance and make judgements based on what we see, but that’s not how God works. ‘has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom, which he has promised to those who love him?’ (James 2:5). James says that the poor may not be rich in financial terms, but they can be rich in faith, heirs of God’s kingdom - millionaires in mercy and enjoying gazillions of grace. To have wealth is actually a spiritual danger; it can make us self-sufficient, independent, rather than depending on God.

Proverbs provides us with hints of how to treat the poor. Not by oppressing, but in the second half of 14:31, ‘he who is generous to the needy honours him [God].’ Indeed, 19:17 goes even further in its observation that ‘Whoever is generous to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed.’ The alternative is set out in stark terms: ‘Whoever closes his ear to the cry of the poor will himself call out and not be answered.’ (21:13). As I’ve said in previous weeks, these are probabilities, not promises, but even so, the call to care for the poor rings out loud and clear.

And it all lies in knowing the undeserved kindness of God in our lives. Over a couple of chapters in 2 Corinthians, Paul is getting them ready for the collection of a gift to help needy Christians suffering from famine in Jerusalem. The centre of his argument says this: ‘For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.’ (2 Cor 8:9). It’s this grace for us, poor, unlovely sinners, that rings out in the Nazareth synagogue at the start of Luke’s Gospel. ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.’ The gospel is good news because it brings us God’s undeserved favour in the grace of the Lord Jesus. He freely gives us his grace, a share in the inheritance of his kingdom.

As we receive his grace, so we are called to share that grace with those around us, to pass on the goodness we have received. When we give one of our nieces a packet of sweets, we expect her to share them with her sister and cousins. She’s not to hoard them all for herself. God has given us his goodness, not to store up for ourselves alone, but to share with those in need. It’s great that we can support the Pantry, but are there other ways we can help?

Do you remember when the woman anointed Jesus, pouring a whole bottle of perfume over his feet? The disciples criticised her because it could have been given to the poor. Judas wanted it for himself and his greed. Jesus says in that moment: ‘For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them...’ Whenever we want, wherever we turn, there are ways to do good, to pass on God’s grace. So let’s ask the Lord to show us, and to give us the desire to help, for his glory.

This sermon was preached at the Lent Midweek service in the series Wisdom for Life in Aghavea Parish Church, on Wednesday 18th March 2015.

Sermon: Psalm 87 Glorious things of you are spoken

A few years ago, Elton John caused some controversy by claiming that ‘songwriters today are pretty awful, which is why everything sounds the same. Contemporary pop isn’t very inspiring.’ And it could well be that you agree with him! Lots of singers and bands seem to produce endless versions of the same song. If you’ve heard 1 One Direction song, the rest sound just the same. Or to my ears it’s the same with Daniel O’Donnell!

As we finish off our summer series in the psalms, you might notice the common thread running through them all. The sons of Korah were the worship leaders in the temple in Jerusalem, and as they begin to sing, you might think, ‘here we go again.’ They’re singing about Jerusalem - Zion, the city of God. Surely we’ve heard it all before. But don’t tune out just yet. While the song starts in a familiar place, the message of the psalm takes a new direction. This is something that affects us directly. Even though we are so far away from Jerusalem, this song is really about us.

So even if all of Daniel O’Donnell’s songs sounded the same, your ears would prick up if you realised he was singing a song about you. Here, the sons of Korah are singing about you from the city of God. But they begin in the city. ‘On the holy mount stands the city he founded; the LORD loves the gates of Zion more than all the dwelling places of Jacob. Glorious things of you are spoken, O city of God.’ This is the city of God. He has founded it, it was his idea, and it stands on the holy mount. It’s not that the mountain is holy, or sacred by itself - rather, it is holy because God has set it apart. This is the place that God has chosen.

Back in Deuteronomy, Moses had told the people that God would choose the place for his dwelling when they made it into the promised land. It was King David who captured the city of Jerusalem, the city of the Jebusites, and made it into the city of God. He could have chosen anywhere in the land of Israel, but he chose Jerusalem, Zion, the city of God. He has set his love on it, the place he founded.

It’s no wonder, then, that glorious things are said of the city. You see, this is no ordinary place. This isn’t like any other capital city of any other nation. This is the city that God has chosen to set his love on. This is the place his presence is to be found. This is where you can come to meet with God. What a special place, what a special people.
And yet, the glorious things spoken of the city aren’t finished with when we get to the end of verse 3. The next verses are also glorious - in a quite unexpected way.

Most days when you pick up a newspaper or turn on the TV news, you’ll find some reference to immigration. Despite coming through Europe, many people are seeking to enter the United Kingdom - some even dying in the attempt. Even when they arrive, they face challenges and difficulties. The recent attacks on homes in Belfast and beyond bear witness to the way they are viewed by a minority in our community.

In verse 4, we’re given a list of various nations and people groups surrounding Israel at the time. ‘Rahab (which is Egypt) and Babylon; Philistia and Tyre, with Cush.’ Egypt and Babylon were Israel’s greatest enemies - from first to last. Egypt had enslaved Israel after a new Pharaoh forgot about Joseph’s legacy, up until the point that Moses brought the people to freedom, through God’s Passover rescue. Babylon was the nation to take Judah into slavery when Nebuchadnezzar destroyed the city and took Daniel and his friends into exile. Philistia was a nearer neighbour, to the west, and a constant enemy. Goliath was one of those Philistines, and they kept attacking Israel. Tyre was Israel’s neighbour to the north, a prosperous independent trading town on the coast. And Cush? It’s modern day Ethopia, and represents the ends of the earth, a far away place.

But how are these enemies all mentioned? Look back to the start of verse 4. ‘Among those who know me I mention Rahab and Babylon...’ In verse 4, it seems as if God is speaking. To know God is to be in relationship with him. It’s the description that Jesus uses in John 10 - my sheep know me. The enemies of Israel; indeed, the enemies of God are being brought to know him. All these non-Jews are being given the privileges of the Jews. So when you read Cush, for the ends of the earth, well, we’re even further from Israel, so this is about us as well.

Now if you were stopped by the police on the way home from church and they asked for ID, you would show them your driving licence. Or you might show your passport. Both bits of ID contain a very important detail about you. It says your name, your date of birth, but it also says your place of birth. Your place of birth helps to identify you, it says where you are from, it normally gives a clue to your citizenship.

Well look what the rest of verse 4 (indeed, right through to verse 6) says. These non-Jews; these enemies; these foreigners; these strangers; ‘This one was born there.’ Born where? Born in Zion, ‘for the Most High himself will establish her.’ It’s as if the singer has moved from the earthly city of Jerusalem (which God founded on the holy mount), so that now he is talking about heavenly Zion which the Most High is establishing.

It’s made even more clear in verse 6. ‘The LORD records as he registers the peoples, ‘This one was born there.’ In the Lord’s register, he records those who have been born in Zion. This isn’t an earthly birth certificate, the way births have to be registered in the Town Hall in Enniskillen. This is the heavenly birth certificate, in the Lord’s book of life.

The sons of Korah are looking forward from their day to ours. They see that Gentiles, non-Jews, are being born again spiritually from above, being registered as citizens of heaven, and welcomed into the family of God. This was the reason that the Lord Jesus came, to die for his people and bring them to be born again.

In a moment or two we’re going to sing the song that comes from verse 3: ‘Glorious things of thee are spoken.’ Most of the hymn doesn’t come from the psalm. The writer imagines what God’s city is like, drawing on other passages. But the start of his last verse is the message of the psalm applied personally. You see, the hymn writer had been far from God. He was a slave trader, a cruel man. And yet, through a near death experience when his ship was almost destroyed, he found refuge in Derry Cathedral where he was converted, and later became a Church of England minister. ‘Saviour, since of Zion’s city I through grace a member am.’ John Newton discovered for himself that it is only by God’s grace that we can be citizens of God’s city. That grace is open for us today. If you have never been born again, come to God today, accept Jesus, and find the joy of being a member of Zion’s city. It’s the joy of the singers and dancers who find their needs supplied: ‘All my springs are in you.’ Why not come today, as we hear of glorious Zion; that can be your new destiny today.

Or perhaps you are a Christian. Take some time today to marvel at these Old Testament saints singing of you, describing how you have come in from the cold; how you have been joined to God’s people. It’s no wonder that glorious things are spoken of God’s city!

This sermon was preached in Aghavea Parish Church on Sunday 31st August 2014. Sadly it wasn't posted to the blog at the time, but here it is now!

Sermon: Romans 1: 1-17 I am not ashamed of the gospel

I wonder if you've ever been ashamed. Maybe it was a long time ago when you thought you were a big boy, and your mum took your hand to cross the street - in front of your friends. Perhaps it was an embarrassing situation where you've made yourself to look like an eejit. You'd rather the ground swallow you up. Like the time you asked the lady when her baby was due and then to discover she wasn't actually pregnant... I think one of the times I was most ashamed was the night many years ago we took the youth group to Dundonald Ice Bowl, and I managed to split my trousers while ten pin bowling. If you've been very fortunate to have never been ashamed of yourself, then maybe you can identify by thinking of the situations others get themselves in!

In our second reading today, we hear about being ashamed, or rather, about not being ashamed. The apostle Paul is writing to the church in Rome before he comes to visit. He has been wanting to visit for a long time, to make it to the capital of the entire Roman Empire, but he hasn't made it so far. And why is it he wants to get to Rome? Is it for a decently priced city break? Does he want to do the touristy sites - the Coliseum, the Vatican? Well, no, of course not, the Vatican doesn't exist.

He is eager to get to Rome because he wants to preach the gospel in Rome. Just as he has been preaching everywhere else, so now he longs to go to Rome to preach the gospel in that great city. But once he says that, he then says what might seem as a bit of a strange thing to say: 'For I am not ashamed of the gospel.'

Why does Paul say this? Or, to put it more accurately, why does he feel he has to say this? It must be because some people were ashamed of the gospel. Perhaps the Christians in Rome were under pressure from their friends and workmates - you don't really believe all that about Jesus, do you? You don't really think there's only one God rather than all the hundreds of Roman gods and goddesses? Is it not very intolerant of you to claim that there is only one way to God?

There is always a danger of drifting. To pay more attention to the opinions of the world around us than God's opinion will always lead us away from God, to be ashamed of God and his gospel. I wonder if you have felt that pressure as well? It's easier to be ashamed of God and turn away.

For Paul, there may also have been the temptation to tone down his message. Perhaps people were saying to him - do you really have to be so dedicated and committed? Maybe you wouldn't land in prison as often if you just moderated your message.

But Paul declares that 'I am not ashamed of the gospel.' In doing so, he challenges the Roman Christians, and us as well gathered here today, to echo his words. I wonder can you say with him, 'I am not ashamed of the gospel'? To help you do that, let's look at why Paul says it - what the gospel is, and what the gospel does.

So what is the gospel? So that the Romans are left in no doubt, Paul outlines the gospel in the very first verses of the letter. The whole letter is a fuller statement of the full extent of the gospel, but even in the very first verse, Paul gets to the gospel of God. This isn't just a fairy story; it isn't something made up to make us feel good for now. It's not, as Marx claimed, the opiate of the people, designed to keep the poor happy until they die. The gospel is God's gospel - his good news given to us.

This good news didn't just appear in the first century either. The gospel was promised beforehand by God - through his prophets in the Holy Scriptures. The Old Testament was laying the foundation for what would come later, just as you have to lay your foundation before you build a house.

The gospel is all about a person. Paul writes, 'concerning his Son, who was descended from David according to the flesh and was declared to be the Son of God in power according to the Spirit of holiness by his resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord.' The gospel is the good news about Jesus, the God-man who was the Son of David (the King), and the Son of God. He lived, he died on the cross, and he was raised to new life. This is the good news, that Jesus has defeated death, and now lives. If Jesus was not raised from the dead, then there is no news, no good news. This is the gospel - Jesus died and lives.

So why does Paul hold fast to this gospel? Why is he not ashamed of it? He tells us the reason in verse 16. Here's what the gospel does. 'For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek.'

This message about Jesus is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes. You see, without Jesus, we are in danger. We are lost. We need to be rescued. We are dead men walking. We stand under judgement by a holy God, who cannot abide our sin. And yet so often we don't realise. We drift along, in danger unawares.

Now if you’re out on a boat on Lough Erne and you get into difficulties, then you need a rescuer. You need someone to come and get you out of danger and bring you back to safety. And that’s what Jesus has done. He came into this world, he took on our flesh, he took up our sin, and he gave his life so that we might live. The King of heaven left his high throne to be the rescuer.

The rescue has been accomplished. The victory has already been won. And all you have to do is to trust in the Lord Jesus - to believe the good news proclamation. As Paul goes on to say: ‘for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes.’ Everyone, anyone, all who will come will be saved. Those like us and those we like; those we don’t like so much - all can come and be saved.

It’s not about bringing a big list of reasons why you should be good enough for God to save. To trust in ourselves is to say that Jesus isn’t enough; that we can do it by ourselves. But there is only salvation in Jesus. Without the gospel, we are lost, both now and for eternity. In the gospel, we find God’s righteousness revealed, accessible only by faith.

About five hundred years ago, a German monk struggled to be good enough to please God. He could never be satisfied that he had done enough. The demands of God’s law weighed down heavily upon him, with no relief. He even grew to hate the God he tried to serve. But then he began to study Romans, and in 1:17 found the key to his own changed life, and began the Protestant Reformation.

‘The righteous shall live by faith.’ Martin Luther came to discover that it’s not about what we bring to the table. The good news of the gospel declares the finished work of Christ and asks us - do you believe this? It is by faith that we trust the promise, and by faith that we receive eternal life. This is why Paul is not ashamed of the gospel. It is God’s gospel from start to finish. It’s all about Jesus, what he has done for us. And it is the power of God for salvation for anyone who will believe.

Perhaps today as you hear of the gospel, you realise that you’ve never really believed the message. You’ve heard it many times before, but never received it for yourself. You can trust in Christ for the first time, just where you’re sitting. Take hold of the promises. Look to Christ, and discover that he did it all for you. Believe on him today.

But maybe you’ve been a Christian for a long time. You’ve been around a few corners and you know how life works. It’s far easier to keep your faith private. No one else need know. No one could even guess! Paul challenges you today - are you ashamed of the gospel?

As we are reminded of the glories of Christ, the marvellous good news of what he has done, the amazing promise that anyone who believes will be saved, may our hearts be strangely warmed like Wesley on reading Luther’s introduction to Romans. Be bold in your faith and your proclamation. Count all else as loss compared to knowing Christ. Live in such a way that proclaims to everyone you meet: ‘I am not ashamed of the gospel.’ And may we all, on that last day, be joined with the great crowd from every nation, all who have received the good news and trusted the Lord Jesus, for his glory. Amen.

This sermon was preached at the RBP service for Brookeborough Victoria RBP 487 in Brookeborough Methodist Church on Sunday 27th July 2014.

Sermon: Matthew 2: 1-12 The Wise Mens' Gospel Gifts

This morning we’re looking at the wise men who came to visit Jesus. But have you heard this one before: What would it have been like if it was three wise women instead of three wise men: They would have asked for directions; arrived on time; helped deliver the baby; cleaned the stable; made a casserole; and brought practical gifts.

There’s a lot of mystery surrounding these visitors from the east, but perhaps the most mysterious thing about them is the gifts they bring to the baby. I mean, just stop for a moment and consider your reaction. You hear of a family member or friend who has had a baby. You want to bring a gift - do you immediately stop at Marks and Spencer to get some gold, frankincense and myrrh? They wouldn’t be top of your shopping list, would they?

There are a thousand and one things that could be more practical and useful for a first-time mother - baby clothes, nappies, towels, bibs, the list could go on and on. So why do these wise men bring these gifts? In verse 11, the treasure chests are opened, and gold, frankincense and myrrh are brought out - or, as a child at a nativity once said: ‘gold, Frankenstein and a mirror’. These gifts tell the story of the baby - the gifts are the gospel.

So let’s consider each of them briefly in turn, to see what they tell us about this special baby. The first one is obvious enough - gold for a king. It was the question on the lips of the wise men when they first appear in the Bible: ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?’

They had come searching for the newborn King, which was why they had landed at the king’s palace in Jerusalem. Herod, however, wasn’t so happy to hear their question. You see, they don’t ask where is the one who has been born and will one day be the king of the Jews. They ask where is the child who has been born the king of the Jews.

The baby is already King. The gold is a recognition of the baby’s place as king of kings and lord of lords. The wise men come to worship, but did you notice that the people in Jerusalem aren’t bothered about the good news? The chief priests and the scribes can answer the quiz question - where will the Messiah be born - but they don’t come with the wise men to see their king. Will we be found with the wise wanderers who worship, or the precocious priests who prevaricate by staying away?

So first out of the treasure chest is gold, fit for a king. The second gift might be less obvious, but it also makes sense. These wise men were magi in the east. Over the last term we came into contact with one of the leading magi of his time - Daniel in Babylon. The visitors to the baby Jesus were the very same sort of guys as Daniel had been in his day. You might remember that in Daniel 9, Daniel had been reading his scriptures, the writings of Jeremiah, and knew the time of exile (70 years) was coming to an end.

It seems that the wise men held on to Daniel’s scriptures, because our Old Testament reading (Isaiah 60) pointed forward to the coming of a new king, one in whom is the glory of the Lord, to whom nations and kings will come. In that very passage we even find a suggested gift list for those who come - ‘They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the LORD.’ (Is 60:6)

Gold and frankincense, declaring the praise of the LORD (of God). Frankincense is the sign of divinity - the sign that this is no ordinary baby, that this is God who has come. You see, in the Old Testament, frankincense was used in the temple offerings as an odour pleasing to the Lord. (e.g. Leviticus 2:1).

But it was even more exclusive than that. In Exodus 30, the Lord is instructing Moses on how to set up the tabernacle and begin the sacrifices and priestly ministry of Levi and his sons. Frankincense is used to make the incense of the tabernacle - a perfume that couldn’t be bought on the high street or used for anybody. It was only to be used in the place of worship, for God alone.

The baby is a king, but he is also God with us - as shown by the frankincense. As if him being the king is not enough reason, here we find that this is our God, to whom worship is due.

But what about the third gift? The myrrh is perhaps the strange one of the three. Sometimes you have to go into a Yankee Candle store. The blend of smells and fragrances can be overpowering. I find that if I take a deep breath and hold it as long as I can, I can just about survive until we’re out again. But in those kind of shops, you find all sorts of smells - the Christmas ones of cinnamon; or cranberry and orange; the regular ones of fluffy towels or lavender; even baby powder. But you definitely wouldn’t have chosen to buy a myrrh candle. Myrrh was the smell of death.

Imagine bringing a little baby something that smells of death? It’s almost unthinkable - as you celebrate life to have a reminder of death in your nostrils. You see, myrrh was used in the ceremonies of death in Jesus’ day. It was part of the spices used as the body was wrapped in the shroud, ready to be laid in the tomb. Towards the end of John’s gospel, we’re told that Nicodemus brought 100 pounds of the stuff to used for the burial of Jesus.

So even as Jesus is born, as the baby is growing, and these strange visitors appear, this gift is pointing to the reason he was born. The King who is God with us, came to die. Already his path towards the cross is marked out. His death is already present as he begins his life.

The King, God with us, dies - dies for us. This is the gospel, the good news of Jesus. He who had no sin; he who deserved to be worshipped and praised; he stepped down into this world to die for our sin. We don’t know how much the wise men knew, but they went on a costly journey, to bring costly gifts, to bow down and worship the baby king. They were the first Gentiles to come and worship, but they are by no means the last, as men and women from every tribe and tongue hear the good news and respond in the same way - to bow the knee and worship King Jesus.

The gifts tell the gospel. Jesus is the king - will you surrender to him? Jesus is God - will you worship him? Jesus is the one who died and rose again for your sins - will you take refuge in his sacrifice?

I once saw a bumper sticker which simply said this: ‘Wise men worshipped Jesus. They still do.’ Will you be a wise man, a wise woman today?

This sermon was preached in Aghavea Parish Church on Sunday 29th December 2013.

The Church of Ireland in the Plantation of Ulster

On Monday I reviewed Jonathan Bardon's book The Plantation of Ulster. The parts of the book that resonated most deeply with me were the repeated concentrations on the role of religion in the colonisation process. So I want to take some time to think about the evidence Bardon presents, and question how we can commit to gospel-centredness over against our traditional role of state enforcer of religion.

The role of the Church of Ireland at that time seemed to be a political one, with it being seen as a tool for the civilising of the crude Irish. The importance of the gospel was lost amidst the political baggage, unfortunately.

Davies and Chichester were also at one in their certainty that the process of anglicisation must include the full introduction of the Protestant religion, ensuring that the established church - the Church of Ireland - was the sole ecclesiastical authority throughout Ireland. (56)

This issues in the proclamation of King James in 1605 aimed at converting the Old English settlers in Ireland from their Catholicism:

Chichester launched a programme of religious persecution on a scale never witnessed before in Ireland. He now rigidly enforced an earlier law which fined ordinary Catholics a shilling for every Sunday they failed to attend a Protestant church... In Drogheda, Chichester personally led the campaign to force Catholics to attend Protestant services. One Catholic gentleman went as far as the church door but would go no further, whereupon Chichester told him, blandly at first, and then savagely, to go in, and... struck him a cruel blow on the head with his stick. Then the macebearer attacked him so savagely that he fell to the ground like a dead man, and the viceroy had him dragged into church, where he lay insensible and gasping all the time of the sermon, and no one dared approach him. (69)

The man died shortly after. It's hardly a seeker sensitive approach, nor even a gospel minded invitation for people to come in. Once the plantation began in earnest, there was some urging of ministers to come to the pagan land:

Art thou a Minister of Gods word? make speede, the harvest is great, but the laborers be fewe: that shalt there see the poore ignorant untaught people worship stones and sticks: thou by carrying millions to heaven, maiest be made an archangell. (144 - from a pamphlet written by Thomas Blennerhasset, an undertaker planting in Lurg and Coolmakernan in County Fermanagh)

Others became Church of Ireland because it was politically convenient to do so:

The turbulent marchlands of England and Scotland [from whence came the Border Rievers] had not been known for their piety. Here families had hardly been touched by the Reformation. Arriving in Ulster in search of land to rent, they quickly found it politic and economically advantageous to be Protestants. Barely aware of Presbyterian or Puritan theology, they conformed to the state-sponsored church. This explains why such a large number of Protestants in Co. Fermanagh became, and remained, members of the Church of Ireland. (148)

While it appears that King James was a gospel man, his advisors were not thus inclined:

In 1604 the English Privy Council informed Adam Loftus, Archbishop of Dublin, that King James believed 'true religion is better planted by the word than the sword', but Loftus and Thomas Jones, the Lord Chancellor (who was to succeed Loftus in that post), responded that they were unable to see 'how, without some moderate course of coactions, they can be reclaimed from their idolatry to come to hear the glad tidings of the truth.' In short, 'coaction' (force) might be required to bring about the conversion of natives to the reformed faith.(198)

No wonder the gospel has singularly failed to take root in this island! The situation was scarcely likely to improve - the newly appointed Bishop of Derry, Raphoe and Clogher was more concerned with his lands and incomes than with the preaching of the gospel. Similarly, Trinity College Dublin, founded to provide reformed clergy, was sending out on average no more than five graduates per year. The Archdeacon of Clogher in 1622 admitted that 'many of his clergy were "scarce endowed with a mediocrity of learning."' (202)

Tensions between settlers and natives militated against any prospect of mass conversions to the reformed religion among the Gaelic Irish. In any case an alien religion whcih vilified their cherished beliefs and traditions would be preached by men speaking an alien tongue, who often regarded them as pagans, savages and barbarians. Further alienation was brought about by the manner in which the established church imposed its exactions on the native population. Resistance to conversion was strengthened by the eagerness of bishops and clergy of the state church to punish and exploit them through the ecclesiastical courts. (203)

There was another element of sadness in the political machinations, and that centred on the driving out of the Presbyterian clergy. For the first thirty years or so, Presbyterian clergy were welcomed within the Church of Ireland, ministering and preaching the gospel. (Crawford Gribben has written more extensively on this feature of the Church of Ireland at the time). As Bardon writes,

Scottish Presbyterian ministers were readily accepted as parish clergy in Ulster without being forced to subscribe to prescribed liturgy and articles of faith. This explains why there was no serious attempt to set up a presbytery in Ulster until 1642. (203)

But come that fateful time, everything would change.

Wentworth, after denying Catholics the right to public office, now turned on Presbyterians who did not toe the line. Until now the Church of Ireland had tolerated a wide range of Protestant beliefs and practices. This suited Scots very well: most of those settling in Ulster were Presbyterians, who, since they did not yet have their own church here, were content to join the Church of Ireland. And all over Ireland, Protestants in this, the established church, tended to be Puritans, favouring plain forms of worship and dress.
Wentworth was determined to change all that. Bishops using the High Church pomp, ceremony, chanting and liturgy favoured by the King [Charles] replaced the ones that the Irish Protestants prefered. Bramhall... was appointed Bishop of Derry in 1634, and from 1636 he led a court of high commission to supervise diocesan courts and enforce state policy, with the power to confiscate and imprison.

The Presbyterians were driven out, with many fleeing to New England on the Eagle Wing. The Black Oath was the final straw, one of the factors leading to the fall of Charles I and the Civil War, as Clotworthy of Antrim appealed to Parliament on behalf of the Puritans and Presbyterians. But the damage was done, the Church of Ireland was rent asunder, the other Protestants driven out, confirmed by the deprivation of any remaining Presbyterian clergy by Bishop Jeremy Taylor of Down, Connor and Dromore.

It appears that tensions between the churches were magnified in the closing years of the 1600s:

Clergy of the Church of Ireland were particularly alarmed by the influx of Scots immigrants. In several parts of Ulster, Presbyterians formed overwhelming majorities - Jonathan Swift was unhappy at Kilroot not only because he was thwarted in love but also because he had almost no Anglicans living in his parish. Ulster Presbyterians threatened the privileges of the established church and made inroads on Anglican congregations too often neglected by worldly or absentee clergy. (307)

It seems to be a bleak century for the progress of the gospel in Ireland, despite the many opportunities that may have been opened through the plantation. Politics reigned supreme, with the cause of Christ relegated to a minor concern or as a tool to be used to beat and break the natives. While lamenting what has gone before, surely we must heed the warnings and seek to ensure that we are a lively gospel witness, not a tool of government or civil society. An island of lost souls still cries out in need, just as Saint Patrick first heard the call and came to preach Christ crucified. Will we play our part in this, our generation?